


Window 1, Bird 0

by Victorious56



Series: Early Days [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: Qrow has a spot of bad luck. Fortunately, someone is looking out for him and is able to help.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Early Days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708144
Comments: 23
Kudos: 74





	Window 1, Bird 0

Clover’s scroll buzzed. He removed it from his pocket, brow furrowed as he saw the alert. _Huntsman Branwen has been located._

His feeling of relief took him by surprise. With what little he knew of Qrow, this behaviour seemed in character. The fact that none of his party had shown any concern at Qrow’s absence told its own story. But he'd felt concerned all the same.

It was standard military procedure to activate 24-hour location monitoring for new recruits. _Although I’m not sure that’s how they see themselves._ Qrow in particular had plenty to say on _that_ subject. He smiled at the memory. "And if you think we’re going to start bending to your stupid rules and regulations, and wear those ridiculous uniforms, think again." Clover knew he shouldn’t have found it entertaining, and was glad he’d managed to suppress his smile before the General noticed. But... it was refreshing.

He looked back at his scroll. The tracker signal had not moved from its initial location. _Odd._ He called up Qrow’s details and checked the aura level. It was lower than ideal, but not dangerously so. _I’d better check this out, discreetly_.

  


As Clover rounded the corner of the building, he saw the crumpled form a short way ahead. A few quick paces brought him to Qrow, lying still on the ground. His clothes were dishevelled, his hair an untidy mess. A hand placed against his chest reassured Clover that his breathing was steady. Bending down, he spoke softly in Qrow’s ear. There was initially no response, then Qrow turned his head. "Geroff."

_That’s good, I guess?_ "Qrow, can you stand up?"

"Go 'way." As Qrow muttered something unintelligible, Clover caught a stale odour on his breath. _Oh gods, he’s drunk._

Clover was aware of Qrow’s history of alcohol dependence, but the latest information suggested he was no longer drinking. Not wanting to make any assumptions, Clover put speculation to one side as he lifted Qrow to a standing position. Well, almost. As he slackened his grip, the older man almost fell to the ground again.

With a sigh, Clover braced himself and lifted Qrow over his shoulder. He decided if there was any vomiting, it was better Qrow should be facing downwards. _And I really don’t want him heaving in my face_. He set off for the accommodation block, trying not to jiggle his burden too much.

  


They reached Clover’s quarters. He’d only knocked Qrow’s head against one doorway, and there had been no vomiting. Clover regarded that as a win.

He had hesitated to bring Qrow to his own room, but decided that was best. He didn’t want to wake any of Qrow’s group, and thought it wise not to leave him alone, in case he was sick later. He laid the limp body on his bed, straightened with a groan, and wondered what to do. _Don’t remember this scenario on the training course._

  


A little later, Qrow was tucked up in bed. He had barely surfaced from his stupor, except to drink some water and mumble at Clover. Now he was snuffling quite loudly in his sleep, and Clover was thankful for his large sofa as he stretched out under a spare blanket. _11:45_. _Could have been worse._ With a final glance at the man snoring in his bed, Clover too was soon asleep.

❖

Qrow emerged reluctantly from drowsiness. The tightness across his forehead, the taste in his mouth. Sensations he'd hoped to never experience again.

At least he'd made it back to bed. He couldn't recall how he'd managed that; the latter part of the evening was lost to him for the moment.

As his senses gradually kicked in, he became aware of a sound. Coming from the bathroom. Which was in the wrong place. _Maybe I'm still asleep and this is a dream?_

The sound of running water stopped, replaced by a faint, non-musical humming. He forced himself to open his eyes, and then immediately closed them. "What... why are you here? What's going on?"

Clover stopped towelling his hair and moved closer to the bed. "Look, first of all, don't worry. You were... taken ill yesterday and I brought you back here. You're in my quarters. But everything's fine."

Qrow wondered how his current situation could in any way be described as _fine_. His head began to hurt even more, so he gave up thinking for now. "Do you have any painkillers?"

Clover fetched a glass of water and two tablets.

"Thanks." Qrow swallowed some water and laid back down. He shifted in the bed, realising that he wasn't wearing his clothes. Well, most of them. His boxers were his own, but— "Is this your t-shirt? How did I get undressed? I can't even remember that much..."

Clover studied the carpet. "I managed to get them off you. Didn't want you to overheat." He felt his cheeks warming.

Qrow squinted up at the other man's reddening face. "Sorry you had to do all that. Must have been fun wrestling me into this." He plucked at the dark green t-shirt.

Clover's eyes met his, his mouth curving into a grin. "Yeah, wasn't the easiest of challenges. You weren't very co-operative."

Qrow managed a smirk before his headache decided to chip in once more. He closed his eyes. "I haven't felt this bad for quite a while."

"I was... quite worried about you, Qrow. Do you feel up to telling me what happened?"

Qrow opened one eye briefly.

"Or not. It's entirely up to you."

Silence fell upon the room. "Don't you have to be at a briefing or something?"

"I asked Elm to deputise. Told her I was taking a few personal hours."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know." Clover's face softened as he looked at Qrow, whose eyes were still closed. "But I wanted to." He paused. "Do you feel up to eating? Or maybe coffee?"

"Do you have tea? Not sure food would be wise for now."

"I have tea." Clover went to the small kitchen, humming tunelessly again. Qrow relaxed into the bed. _I think I like being looked after._

❖

Clover placed the steaming mug on the nightstand. "So."

Qrow pulled himself up to a sitting position, taking the mug with a grateful "Thanks." He blew on the surface of the tea and took a small sip.

"I'd decided to pop down to Mantle. Just for a stroll about. There was a problem with a few Beowolves, some of the locals were in a spot of bother. I sorted that out, and they were grateful and wanted to buy me a drink."

"Ah. I see."

"No, it wasn't like that. I mean, I tried to refuse but they insisted, so I asked for fruit juice. And it looked like fruit juice, but I think someone must have decided to... liven it up a bit. I had a few, I think. Then it gets a bit hazy."

Clover frowned. "That was really irresponsible. Of them, I mean. But—" he turned his frown towards Qrow. "How did you get back to Atlas?"

"Well, I flew. Crow, you know?"

"Oh, of course, I was forgetting. But there must have been a problem?"

Qrow drank some more tea and slid back under the covers. The room was slowly circling round him in a very unsettling way.

"Do you have a bowl at all?" Clover jumped up in alarm and ran to the kitchen.

"Here you go." Qrow leaned over the side of the bed, emptying his stomach into the bowl. He groaned pitifully and rubbed his face.

Clover handed him a tissue. "Poor you. Perhaps you'll feel better now you've been sick." He held the glass of water to Qrow’s lips.

"I couldn't feel much worse. Sorry." Qrow flopped back onto the pillow. His head _did_ feel less painful now. Clover gently wiped his face with a towel.

"It's okay. I imagine you'll be fine in a few hours."

"I can't stay here—"

"Of course you can. But I'm still puzzled about what happened when you flew back."

"I don't generally fly when I've been drinking. I think I must have flown into a window."

"You need to be careful, Qrow. You could have been seriously hurt."

Qrow heard the concern in Clover's voice. "Lucky for me you were keeping an eye out."

"Well, just doing my job." Clover's voice was gruff as he picked up the bowl and went into the bathroom.

"Lucky for me..." Qrow repeated, his voice sleepy. He heard the flush of the toilet, sensed Clover approaching the bed. There was a soft touch on his forehead as gentle fingers moved a strand of hair away from his eyes. It was too much effort to open his eyelids, so he decided not to try. The last thing he heard was a quiet humming as he drifted back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
